


Death Comes to the Rocinante

by Quipxotic



Category: The Expanse (TV)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Dreams, Episode: s05e10 Nemesis Games, F/M, Gap Filler, Grief/Mourning, Injury Recovery, Season/Series 05, Spoilers, Talking, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 02:08:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29324472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quipxotic/pseuds/Quipxotic
Summary: Seemingly impossible things happen to the crew of theRocinantenearly every day. Still, sooner or later, their luck has to run out.Today is that day.(Or, how the crew learned of a major character's death in Season 5, since none of that happened onscreen.)
Relationships: Amos Burton & Jim Holden & Alex Kamal & Naomi Nagata, Bobbie Draper & Alex Kamal, Jim Holden/Naomi Nagata
Comments: 46
Kudos: 42





	1. The Message

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for the episode "Nemesis Games," obviously.

“Holden." The ID associated with the call was Alex’s but it was Bobbie’s face that greeted him when he opened the message. It had been a while since he’d seen her, but even to his eyes she seemed especially grave. Holden’s heart fell. Whatever news she had wasn't likely to be good. “I have Naomi,” she continued, “she’s alive, but in pretty rough shape. She’s suffering from dehydration, hypoxia, and radiation burns, but I’ve got her hooked up to the ship’s auto-doc. With a bit of care, she should be fine.”

 _Alive_. Holden blew out the breath he’d been holding. _Naomi’s alive_. The tightness that had settled in his chest since the moment he’d first tried and failed to contact Naomi eased a little. A hand touched his arm. Glancing to his left, Holden realized Monica was standing close by and smiling at him. He returned her grin. 

“But there’s more.” Bobbie glanced away, swallowing down some emotion Holden couldn’t read. It was only there for a second, then she was looking straight at him again, every inch a Martian Marine with her battle face on. “There’s no way to say this but to just say it. Alex is dead.”

Holden blinked, sure he had heard that last bit wrong. It couldn’t be right, Alex was on the _Razorback_ and Bobbie was calling from there…

“The ship's sensors said it was a stroke.” Bobbie’s voice seemed to come from far away. “Alex wanted to get here as fast as possible, so we did a few high-G burns in a row and…well, I don’t have to tell you that it’s always a risk. I’m really sorry, Holden.” She glanced away again and blinked before regaining her composure. “Let me know if we need to come to you or rendezvous here. _Razor_ -“ Another pause. “- _Screaming Firehawk_ out.”

“Oh god,” Monica gasped, her hand tightening on his arm. “Holden...Jim, I’m so, so sorry.” 

He barely heard her. His thoughts and emotions felt fuzzy and distant as if belonging to someone else. _Alex was dead._ Holden repeated it to himself again and again, trying to force the information to make sense. Alex Kamal - best pilot in the galaxy and best cook onboard the _Rocinante_ , lover of bad country music, loyal friend and family member - was dead. It seemed impossible, even though he knew it had to be true. Bobbie would never lie about something like this. She was one of the most honest and straightforward people he knew.

“Holden?” Monica shook his arm slightly, worry making the pitch of her voice higher. “Are you okay? Do you need to sit down?”

“No.” Closing his eyes, he took in a slow, hitching breath and let it out in a steadier exhale. A deep exhaustion settled into his bones. “No, I just...need to...“ Without finishing the statement, he forced his fingers to type the necessary commands. “Understood Bobbie,” he said, trying to keep his voice even. “We’ll meet you halfway to conserve fuel. I’ll send you the coordinates. Thank you for saving Naomi and letting me know about Alex.” It was an inadequate reply, but it was all he had the emotional energy to give at the moment. “And I’m sorry too. I know you and Alex were close. We’ll talk more later. See you soon.” Disconnecting the call, he looked up to see Bull studying him. “Did you hear-“

“Meeting them halfway? Yeah, I heard. Want me to figure out the location and send the coordinates on?” 

“Sure.” Holden rubbed his forehead. There was something he was forgetting. _Oh right._ “How’s our fuel situation?”

“That top-off your Sk…Belter friend gave us is more than enough to get us there.” 

“And afterwards?”

“Depends on where you decide to take us, Captain.” 

That was the trillion dollar question. Holden tried to focus enough to make plans, but all he could think about were Naomi and Alex. 

“Maybe,” Monica exchanged a look with Bull, “you should decide that after we meet up with the _Razorback_?”

“Scopes are clear,” Bull added, his gruff voice surprisingly gentle. He shifted from foot to foot as if uncomfortable with the expression of any emotion that wasn't anger. “Nobody's following us at the moment.”

Holden nodded. “We’ll decide later then. Bull, get us there-“

“At best speed?” He was already climbing the ladder to the cockpit. “Aye, Captain.”


	2. Together At Last

Naomi groaned as Bobbie helped her back into her VAC suit. “I know it hurts,” Bobbie said, trying to be as gentle as possible, “but we have to suit up to get over to the _Roci_.”

“It’s…alright, Bobbie.” Naomi accepted the helmet she offered with a weary, unconvincing smile. “I get it.” 

“Ready,” she asked and received a thumbs-up from Naomi. “Can you walk on your own?“

“Yeah,” Naomi tried to take a step forward, but could barely lift her foot, “I’ll just be a bit slow-”

“Probably not a good idea for both ships to be sitting here for long.” Bobbie weighed the risk before coming to a decision. “Turn off your mag-boots.” Once Naomi did so, Bobbie put her arms around her. “Now relax, I’ve got you.” Slowly, she picked Naomi up and carried her to the airlock. 

Stepping out onto the docking bridge, Bobbie felt overwhelming déjà vu. The slow walk carrying an injured crewmate was all too similar to the first time she’d encountered this ship. When the _Rocinante’s_ hatch opened the feeling was reinforced by the appearance of three people waiting there. She squinted, trying to make out their features through the helmets of their suits. One she didn’t recognize, another was that reporter from the _Behemoth_ , and the third…

“She’s alright, Holden,” Bobbie said in response to his stricken expression. She turned Naomi so she was parallel with and facing the others. “This just seemed the fastest way to get her here.”

Holden and Naomi reached for each other the moment their eyes met. Grabbing hold of her gloved hand, he pulled her into a tight embrace, their helmets knocking gently against each other. They stood there, holding each other in silence for a few minutes. It was touching, but Bobbie couldn’t help feeling she was an unwanted observer of a deeply private moment.

“This is touching and all,” the stranger said, echoing Bobbie’s thoughts. He was short and solidly built, an Earther if she had to guess. His tone was wry and a bit insolent. “But can we move it inside?”

“Bull,” the reporter scolded. Bobbie struggled to dig up her name from the depths of her memory. Monica maybe? “Give it a rest already.” 

“No, he’s right.” Holden let Naomi go but kept a tight grip on her hand. “I’ll take Naomi to the medbay.” He looked to Bobbie. “Alex?”

“Still on the ship. I’ll bring him aboard.”

Holden nodded his thanks and slipped his arm around Naomi’s waist, ready to guide her inside.

“Need some help?”

Bobbie turned to glare at Bull. The idea that a Martian in power armor would need help from an Earther was obviously ridiculous. He took an involuntary step back, which pleased her, and held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Just asking. Jesus.” 

Without another word, Bobbie headed back toward the _Razorback_ and Alex. 

— —

_Four hours earlier…_

“Alex? Alex, do you copy?” The comm remained silent, as it had through her last seven attempts at communicating with the _Razorback_. Bobbie frowned as her suit’s thrusters slowly brought she and Naomi closer to the ship. Alex had been speaking to them a moment ago and it wasn’t that large a ship, just a cockpit, a small sleeping berth, and cargo storage. She knew from experience that you could hear the comms unit from everywhere once you were inside, so even if he’d stepped away…

But why would he do that? He was worried about Naomi and getting to her had been his only concern since Holden had warned them of Marco’s approaching fleet. Something was wrong. 

She fought the urge to call out to him again. If the last few attempts hadn’t worked any future ones were both a waste of time and risked further upsetting Naomi. She glanced over to the woman she held. From this angle only her profile was visible, but there were tears on Naomi’s cheek and Bobbie could hear her gasping breaths through the close proximity of their helmets. Her physical condition looked fragile and Bobbie had no idea how she was holding up mentally. With the radio malfunctioning in Naomi’s suit, they couldn’t communicate easily, but Naomi had jumped out of a ship rigged to explode with nothing but the air in her suit, so Bobbie figured she’d probably been through hell. 

Bobbie used her thrusters to slow their approach once they got close enough. Holding Naomi with one arm, she grabbed hold of the _Razorback_ with her other hand, skidding slightly until the magnets in her glove engaged. “Naomi,” she yelled, “hold on to me. I need both hands.” After she was sure her friend had a firm grip, Bobbie banged three times on the hull before manually opening the hatch, just in case Alex was already waiting for them in the airlock. She needn’t have bothered, the airlock was empty. 

Once the outer door closed behind them, she opened the airlock’s inner door. A persistent beeping drifted to them from the cockpit, signaling a warning or malfunction of some kind. Bobbie helped Naomi take off her helmet. “Listen,” she said, touching the other woman’s shoulder to get her attention, “I need to check something. Stay here-“

But Naomi was already shaking her head. “Something’s wrong with Alex.”

“We don’t know-“

“We don’t.” Naomi’s exhaustion was painful to see and her speech was slurred, but she persisted. “That’s why…I’m coming with you.”

“You’re in no shape-“

“Bobbie,” Naomi clutched at her power armor, “please!”

Bobbie sighed, but relented. If a member of her old unit had been in this situation, no force in the galaxy would have stopped her from going to them, no matter what she might find when she got there. Nodding once, she triggered the release on her power armor and stepped out. “Come on then.”

They moved together through the small ship, Naomi floating behind Bobbie with a hand on her shoulder to make the journey easier. The only sounds were the warning alarm and the thud of Bobbie’s mag-booted footsteps. There was movement, however. Even in the _Razorback’s_ bluish interior lights, the red of the droplets stood out as they floated in a meandering line away from the headrest of the pilot’s chair. 

_Blood._

Bobbie pushed forward, all thoughts of Naomi temporarily forgotten. Alex was still belted in place in the pilot’s chair, his eyes staring blankly at the ship’s readouts. His chest wasn’t moving and blood dripped from his nose. Bobbie knew at a glance he was dead, but she put her fingers to his neck anyway to check for a pulse. She never felt Naomi let go of her, but out of the corner of her eye she saw her grab hold of the chair and use it to drag herself to the opposite side. 

“Alex,” Naomi said, her voice trembling.

Bobbie glanced at her, saw the sorrow on her face, and turned to the ship’s controls. 

“Alex! No, please. Not after everything…”

Bobbie deactivated the alarm and checked the sensors to make sure there were no ships approaching. Once that was confirmed, she faced her two friends again. Naomi had her arms wrapped around Alex’s neck and was quietly sobbing into his shoulder. Tears prickled at the corners of Bobbie’s eyes, but she blinked them away. There would be time to grieve the dead later, right now the living needed her.

It took her ten minutes to convince Naomi to move to the navigator’s chair and allow her to hook up the auto-doc. While the machine did its work, Bobbie respectfully removed Alex’s body from the pilot’s chair.

— —

_Now…_

Alex was strapped in to the _Razorback's_ sleeping berth, just as she’d left him. If Bobbie didn’t know better, she’d think he was asleep. She wished that was the case. 

She shook her head impatiently, annoyed with that line of thinking. Dead was dead, there was no point wishing it away. Better to face reality squarely and deal with things as they were. She unstrapped Alex, lifting and carrying him just as she had Naomi. Once the outer doors of the _Roci's_ now empty airlock closed securely behind her, she opened the internal hatch and carried him through to where she knew the cryogenic bags were stored. It was difficult getting him inside one by herself and in zero-G, but she managed. For some reason it was important to her that she handle this part alone. She didn't analyze the feeling too closely, but when it was done she engaged the controls and watched ice crystals creep across the viewport, obscuring some of Alex’s face. 

_Like Sleeping Beauty_ , Bobbie thought and then snorted an inadvertent laugh that choked off into a strangled sob. Alex would have laughed at that idea too, she realized sadly. She could almost hear his wildly ridiculous Mariner Valley drawl in her head saying, _“Shoot darlin’, does that mean you think I’m handsome?”_

“No,” she said aloud as she touched the viewport, “but I’ll miss you anyway, compadre.”

Once she had the body bag secured within a drawer and stepped out of her armor, she sought out Holden and Naomi. She found them in the medbay, their heads close together, talking quietly. She again felt like she was invading their privacy, so she went in search of a comms terminal. In one of the empty crew rooms she tried her access commands and found they all still worked. She huffed in disgust at the laxness of the ship’s security, even though it benefited her, and placed a call to a familiar contact.

“Talissa? If Melas is around you may want to wait until he’s out of earshot before you listen to the rest of this message.” Bobbie paused a few seconds before resuming. “Okay, I’m calling to tell you Alex is dead. I need to know if you want to have a role in planning his funeral. I understand if you don’t, I know things were difficult between you two last time you spoke and you have every right to be angry with him. So if you want me to find someone else to take care of things, I will. If you do take this on, I need you to contact the MCRN. Alex died saving lives and he deserves to be buried with full military honors.” She rubbed a hand over her hair, trying to collect her thoughts. “I don’t know when we’ll be able to get his body to Mars. There’s a bit of a war on and right now we’re stuck in the middle. I’ll call when I have a solid ETA, but let me know one way or the other before then, okay? And tell Melas I’m sorry his dad’s dead.” She smiled sadly. “Alex was really proud of the kid and he loved you both, even if it was hard to tell sometimes by the choices he made. One of his biggest regrets was knowing he wouldn't be there when Melas got older, to help him through things. I hope knowing that makes this easier.” Bobbie doubted anything would, but that was the sort of thing you said to comfort civilians after a death, wasn’t it? No need to give them all the details around what prompted Alex's comment, the betrayal of the dream of Mars by those their society had trusted most. 

She ended the message with a weary sigh. At least that was one responsibility she could take off Naomi and Holden’s shoulders. She turned around and set off to find something else that needed doing. Better to stay busy than to sit alone with her thoughts and her own regrets.


	3. Open Wounds

Arriving on the _Rocinante_ was a blur for Naomi. She heard Jim and Bobbie talking to people outside of her peripheral vision. She couldn’t make out the words or the other voices, but it didn’t matter. After what seemed like an eternity, James Holden was in front of her where she could confirm his safety and continued survival with her own eyes. She watched his face through his VAC suit’s mask and focused on the deep, well-loved rumble of his voice. All the fears she’d carried since being taken prisoner by Marco still plucked at her nerves, but for the moment she was able to quiet them. _He’s alive_ , she thought, _Marco failed at this at least_. 

She must have drifted off because the next thing she knew her helmet was being removed. A glance around showed she and Holden were no longer in the airlock, but standing alone in the armory just beyond it. 

“Naomi,” Jim asked as he helped her out of her VAC suit, “you still with me?”

“Yes,” she rasped, her throat feeling raw. “Definitely. Always.”

He smiled that soft, sappy smile of his. “Me too. Let’s get you to the medbay.”

She floated most of the way there with the help of a few gentle nudges from Jim to guide her up ladders and through doors. Once she was in one of the crash couches, he put the auto-doc on her arm and it began the familiar steps of diagnosis and treatment. Having already been through the process once on the _Razorback_ , she quickly tuned it out, choosing instead to study Holden. He stood beside her, his eyes alternating between her face and the auto-doc’s display which he tapped impatiently as if he could hurry it along by doing so. Naomi’s gaze took in his worried frown, the creases around his eyes, and the jerkiness of his movements. She wondered how long he’d been awake and what meds he’d taken to stay that way. 

“Jim,” Naomi put her hand over his, “I know what it’s going to say, it’s nothing life threatening.”

“I know,” he said. “Bobbie told me your diagnosis, but I want-”

“To see it with your own eyes.” Slipping her fingers through his, she smiled up at him. “I know the feeling.”

He huffed out a laugh, thin and almost soundless. “Yeah, I bet.” When the auto-doc beeped, his focus turned instantly to the readout. He nodded, the nervous energy draining out of him as he read through the text displayed. “Right. Good.”

“Everything as expected,” Naomi asked, although she knew the answer. 

“Yes, but it’s wanting to give you some sedatives in addition to all the other treatments for dehydration and radiation burns. Apparently you’ve been awake for a while?”

“Pot meet kettle.” This time he responded with a real laugh and she smiled. Naomi felt a small pinch in her arm as the auto-doc triggered the infusion of fluids and medicines. “Are you going to sit beside me? Maybe take a nap together? I’m sure we’ve both earned one.”

“I wish I could.” He ran a hand over her hair and then down to caress her face. “There’s some things I need to do first, just to make sure we’re all safe.”

“I know, it's just,” she paused.

“What? You know if you want something you only have to ask.”

“Stay with me, just until I fall asleep?”

He smiled. “Of course.” Jim disentangled from her long enough to pull over a stool and settle himself beside the crash couch. He took her hand again, rubbing his thumb lightly over her bruised knuckles. For a while neither of them said anything, but finally he leaned down to touch his forehead to hers. “I’m glad you’re okay. I’ve missed you more than I could ever put into words.”

Naomi chuckled and closed her eyes. Despite her pains and sorrows, she allowed herself a moment to luxuriate in the feeling of being home. “I doubt that very much. You’re James Holden, expressing yourself has never been a problem.”

“True, but I think even I might struggle to convey it all this time.”

“It’s alright.” Naomi looked up into his eyes. “You’ve got the rest of our lives to explain it to me.”

“I’m going to hold you to that,” he said. 

“Please do.” The sound of his voice and the rhythmic touch on her hand worked with the meds to relax her. Naomi struggled against the drowsiness, not ready to let go of him just yet. 

“Go to sleep,” Jim said, kissing her forehead. “We’ll talk when you wake up.”

“Okay,” she whispered, already drifting off. Within seconds, she was fast asleep. 

— —

Naomi floated through the _Roci_ , occasionally reaching out to touch bits of the ship. It felt comforting, like reacquainting herself after a long absence. As she neared the galley, a sound she’d been aware of for a while coalesced into something she recognized. It was Alex singing quietly to himself as he cooked. She’d heard him do something similar hundreds of times and the familiarity of it made her want to cry for reasons she couldn’t quite remember. 

Alex had his back to her as she entered the galley. His earphones were resting easily around his neck, but she could just barely make out the plaintive notes of a song coming from them. She must have made a noise because he glanced in her direction and smiled. “Good morning, cowgirl! It’s good to see you up and around. How do you feel?”

“I’m fine,” she said, confused as to why he would ask. “How are you?”

“I’m just dandy, darlin’. Everyone’s home and accounted for, my signature lasagna will be ready in about thirty minutes, and all’s right with the universe, at least for the space of a meal.”

That sounded wrong to Naomi and she tried again to remember why. The realization, when it finally came, ran through her like a jolt of electricity. “Alex,” she began cautiously, not sure she should say anything at all, “you’re dead. And Amos isn’t on the _Roci_ , he’s still somewhere on Earth. We don’t even know if he’s alive-”

“Sure, sure,” he conceded, “that’s a thing that happened. The dying part I mean, but I try not to think on it much. As far as Amos goes, he’s tough as old boots. He’ll be back with us before long.”

“How do you know?”

“That’s the thing about being dead,” he waved a hand vaguely before continuing to prepare the meal, “everything becomes clear.”

“I’m dreaming,” Naomi muttered, “this has to be a dream.”

“Most likely,” Alex agreed.

“So you’re not really here.”

“That depends, I guess.” He finished the dish and, sliding the pan in to cook, he turned to lean back against the counter. “Do I sound like me?”

“Yes,” she replied warily.

“Do you want to talk to me?”

“Yes, but-“

“Then I’m real enough. Maybe it’s a dream and I’m not really here. Maybe I’m your subconscious giving you something you need. Does it matter?”

“Yes?”

“No.” He smiled, flicking the off-switch on his earphones and removing them so they drifted across the galley, turning slowly. “This is an opportunity and like all opportunities it may never come again. If you have something to say, I suggest you take it.” He held up his hands in a surrendering gesture. “Either way, I won’t judge.”

Naomi bit her lower lip, worrying it as she considered. With a sigh, she made up her mind. “I’m sorry…” her voice hitched and she cleared her throat before continuing, “I’m sorry I got you killed.“

Alex scratched his beard lazily. “Is that really how it happened? ‘Cause I don’t remember it that way.”

“If I hadn’t gone after Filip, Marco wouldn’t have captured me. And if they hadn’t had the _Chetzemoka_ to use as trap, you, Jim, and Bobbie wouldn’t have been in danger.”

“Well, that’s simply not true. If you hadn’t been on Marco’s ship, you wouldn’t have learned he’d slipped that nasty bug into our girl’s reactor and both she and Jim would be dead now, not to mention a whole bunch of other folks on Tycho who didn’t deserve to die either. As for me and Bobbie, we ended up where we were by following a trail of breadcrumbs from Mars. Nothin’ to do with you.”

“Yes, but-“

“But nothing.” Alex folded his arms. “You think I wouldn’t give my life for our home, our family? I thought we were past there being any doubts about that.”

“You shouldn’t have had to, that's the point! Not for me and all the mistakes I've made.“

“Not your call, XO. You can only control what you can control and seems to me you did that in spades. Anyone else in your situation would be dead.” He smiled proudly, pushing off from the counter to walk toward her. “But because you’re you - brilliant, resourceful, calm-headed, and amazing as always - you’re still here and Jim’s still here.” He put his hands on her shoulders. “Same with the _Roci_ , and you know how much I love this girl of ours.” 

Naomi realized she was crying and wondered when that had started. “I wish…I wish you were still here with us too. Everything I did on the _Chet_ was to save you and I failed.”

Alex pulled her in for a tight hug and she hugged him back. “Not failed, darlin’. You saved Bobbie and me.” He stepped back to look at her. “You think I’d rather have died being blown up with you both in a trap that bastard Marco set?” She shook her head. “Do I wish I were alive? Of course, who wouldn’t? But if wishes were horses we’d all ride off into the sunset, happy as you please. And if we had the power to wish things away, why stop there? Why not change everything: Eros, Ganymede, Illus, the Ring, the _Cant_? Then you and me, and Jim and Amos would’ve stayed pretty much strangers to each other.” He smiled again. “Can't have the good without the bad. Besides, this was the ride of a lifetime and I don’t regret a second of it. Don’t you regret it just because the ending is sad. That’s my advice, anyway.” He walked back to check on the lasagna. “Plus, it’s not really the end, is it? Not for you and the others.” Glancing over his shoulder, he winked at her. “Set the table for me, will ya?”

Naomi wiped away her tears and nodded. She took the plates he held out to her and began placing them around the table. One. Two. Three. Four…

The dream drifted away, changing into something Naomi couldn't remember upon waking. But she slept on, safe at last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of the few times I can mix gravity with zero-G in the same scene BECAUSE IT'S A DREAM.


	4. Calls to Make

Holden remained beside Naomi even after she fell asleep. He knew he was pressing his luck. Both ships were sitting ducks in the middle of a war zone right now and Holden had a responsibility to everyone on board. Bull for one was never long on tact or compassion, especially when his own safety was on the line, and every moment Holden waited risked exacerbating that potential issue. They needed to get under thrust, but for that they needed a destination. As captain it was his job to make that decision, but it was painful to pull himself away when he’d only just now gotten Naomi back. He wanted to stay until she woke, to monitor her health but also to be there for her after missing so much.

At last he stood up with a sigh, rationalizing that the sooner he did what needed to be done the sooner he could come back. Holden had barely begun climbing the ladder to the next level of the ship when his hand terminal beeped indicating an incoming message. He dutifully fished it out of his pocket, fully expecting to see an impatient request from Bull or Monica, but his eyes widened when he saw the sender’s name. It was Amos.

His relief that his friend was alive was soon overridden by remorse and dread. He needed to tell Amos about Alex, which wasn’t a conversation he was looking forward to. It also wasn’t one he wanted to have in the middle of Ops where everyone could hear, it was just too personal. He headed towards his quarters, nearly running into Bobbie as she came out of another room. “Are you alright,” he asked, suppressing his urgent desire to listen to Amos's message. “Do you need anything? I can help with Alex-“

She held up a hand. “No need. I’ve already put him in cryogenic freeze and I’ve contacted his ex about making funeral arrangements.”

Holden blinked in surprise. He hadn’t had time to think that far ahead. “That’s a good call. Alex would’ve wanted to be laid to rest on Mars, if possible.” He smiled ruefully. “And despite the courts confirming the _Rocinante_ as legitimate salvage, I don’t think the Martian authorities would welcome such a request if it came from me.”

“Or me,” Bobbie added. “A dishonorably discharged former marine doesn’t rank much higher than infamous thieves-"

"Salvagers." 

She ignored the correction, but there was a hint of a smile in her eyes. "-of MCRN property in the trustworthiness department. Just be aware his ex could say ‘no.’ Alex was pushing for a reunion during his return home and it didn’t go over well.”

He nodded. “We knew things were strained there. Worst comes to worst, we’ll get as close to Mars as we can without getting shot down and give him a burial at sea.” 

Bobbie raised an eyebrow. “Burial in space, you mean? Not all of us grew up on planets with oceans.”

He conceded the point wordlessly. ”Thanks for taking care of Alex. I should have been there-“

“You don’t have to thank me. He was my friend too.”

“I know. Alex considered you family, which makes you part of mine as well. If you need anything, let me know.”

“Thank you.” Her eyes glistened and she briefly looked away. “I’m no good at saying so, but it means a lot to me. As far as what I need right now,” she looked at him with a vulnerable expression, “give me something to do. I hate sitting around feeling useless, especially at times like this.”

Holden held up his hand terminal. “I just got a message from Amos I hope is going to tell me he’s somewhere safe and ready for us to pick him up. If that’s the case, we’ll need to head Earthward and that means getting Madam Avasarala to pull some strings for us.” 

She flashed a relieved smile. “I need to check in with her anyway.” She gestured behind her. “Do you mind if I use-“

“Pick any empty crew room you want, it’s yours.” He paused, debating the ethics of his next request. “I’ve also not heard from my parents. If you could ask-“

“Consider it done.” She gripped his shoulder and gave it a friendly shake. “Now go on, see what Amos has to say for himself.”

He patted her hand before slipping past to his own room. Once the door was closed behind him, he sent Amos’s message from his hand terminal to the wall screen with a wave of his fingers and pressed play.

“Hi Cap.” Amos’s familiar face grinned at him. He looked good, far better groomed and rested than Holden at the moment. Jim smiled, all of his worries temporarily forgotten. “I’m on Luna. Earth’s really fucked, more than before if you can believe it. Those rocks did some major damage. I hear things got busy around Tycho too, which means you’re probably up to your ass in shit as usual. Whenever you get done, could you swing by to get me? Not a whole lot of non-military traffic leaving this place at the moment and what there is is ferrying people up from the planet.” He paused, an odd look in his eyes. “Thanks Cap. Can’t wait to come home.” 

The message ended there. Holden hadn’t expected any emotional scenes, it was Amos after all, but he was surprised by how certain his friend was of their survival. In a way, Amos’s confidence in Holden and the _Rocinante_ was more touching than any tearful confessions of homesickness would have been. The mechanic was the ultimate realist, but he still trusted them to always come through. Holden hoped he could live up to that trust. 

Now came the hard part. Amos had seen more than his fair share of death, so Holden knew he didn’t need to worry about breaking things to him gently, but he worried about it anyway. He also knew someone in Earth Administration was probably monitoring their calls, so there were things he couldn’t say until he had a chance to talk to Avasarala directly. Holden considered his words carefully, took a deep breath, and started the recording. 

“Hey brother, it’s good to hear from you. I got worried when I couldn’t get a hold of you after the attacks on Earth. Assuming you were down there when it happened, I can’t imagine what you’ve been through. Naomi’s back with us now, but she’s had a hard time of it too.” He sighed and took the plunge. “Which brings me to the bad news. Alex had a stroke on his way to save Naomi from a damaged ship she was stranded on. He saved her life, but lost his own in the process. I wish I could’ve told you all this in person, but I wanted you to know as soon as possible. I’m sorry, man. Alex is...” he felt a lump in his throat and had to stop for a second, ”…was irreplaceable. I have someone clearing our landing permissions with Avasarala so we’ll be on our way to Luna. I’ll call you back with our ETA once we’ve got the official word. Take care, buddy.”

Holden slumped back onto his bed feeling as drained as if he’d run a marathon. The time delay would be at least fifteen minutes, but there was plenty to do while he waited. “Bull,” Holden said into his hand terminal. 

“Yeah Cap?”

Holden frowned at the device. It was the first time Bull had called him that. “Set a course for Luna, best speed.”

A pause. “Copy that.”

“What’s the problem?”

“For me? Nothing. Setting course now.”

Holden’s confused frown deepened while he tried to decode the meaning of that non-explanation. When realization hit him he flushed, utterly mortified. Some of the current crew were Belters with ties to Fred Johnson’s faction of the OPA. While they were all also employees of the Earth-owned Tycho corporation, their political status would be tenuous at best. “I’ll come talk to everyone in a minute.”

“Hey, it’s your ship. No skin off my nose either way.”

 _But you at least considered the implications for the crew_ , Holden thought. _Even if you don’t care what happens to them, you still thought about them more than I did. I need to do better_. “No, it’s a good catch. I’ll figure out some options.”

“Copy,” Bull replied. Holden could hear the eye-roll in his tone, but let it go. He had something else he needed to do before he spoke with the crew. 

Heading back down the ladder, he soon stood in front of the drawers used to house bodies for transport on MCRN ships. His hands shook as he pulled the drawers open one after the other until he reached the one that was occupied. Ice clouded the viewport of the body bag but Alex’s face was still visible. Holden had seen more dead bodies over his lifetime than he’d ever wanted to, but Alex looked better than most. Other than some blood at the corner of his mouth, the pilot looked peaceful. Holden hoped that meant his death was quick and painless. He placed a hand over Alex’s heart. “I’m sorry brother, you deserved better than this. Thank you for saving Naomi. Given everything we’ve been through we’re far beyond words like debt; if I tried to count up everything I owe you, I’d never stop. But I promise to spend the rest of my life honoring the sacrifice you made for me and Naomi, for our family.” He closed his eyes. “I don’t know how we’re going to go on without you, but I’ll make sure we do because we owe you that.” Opening his eyes, he moved his hand to rest on top of his friend’s head. “Rest easy, Alex.”


	5. Interludes

Chrisjen flicked the first file closed with an impatient wave of her fingers before opening the next one. When she’d built her first cabinet she’d been able to pulling a score of names off the top of her head; now so many were missing or lost that she was having to review resumes of people she barely knew. Obviously she would offer to reinstate the members of the previous provisional council who had resigned with her after the bombing of Pallas, but while Dahane, Cabotari, Yilmaz, and Tesfaye would be valued advisors, there were other chairs to fill, particularly among the military. How many of them would, like Felix, seek frontline postings in the hopes of bringing down Marco Inaros?

Her hand terminal chirped. Picking it up, Chrisjen stared in surprise for several seconds before playing the message. 

“Ma’am.” Bobbie stood ramrod straight with her hands behind her back. Relief flooded Chrisjen at the sight of her friend, but she couldn’t help noticing how familiar her surroundings looked. “I’m on the _Rocinante_ ,” she continued, confirming Chrisjen’s suspicions. “Apologies for the radio silence, but we had to deal with some issues. Naomi was trapped on a ship Marco Inaros was using as bait to lure the _Roci_ into a trap. Holden took care of the Free Navy ships Inaros sent after them - I’m not sure how, we haven’t had time to talk about it yet. Alex and I went after Naomi and were able to rescue her.” She paused for only a second but Chrisjen sensed something was wrong. “Alex…he didn’t make it.” 

Christjen paused the message and rubbed her weary eyes. Yet another life lost in this catastrophe. She hadn’t known the Martian pilot well, but he’d been kind to Chrisjen during her brief stay on the _Rocinante_. That Holden and his ship had survived another attack came as a relief, a small win among all the losses of the last few weeks. The news about Naomi was also welcome, not to mention interesting. Chrisjen suspected there was a story there, one which might prove useful. Opening her eyes, she clicked “continue.” 

“…Holden has received a message from Amos. He was on his way to view it when I saw him, but assumes Amos was asking for a pickup. Holden requests landing permissions for Earth if that’s possible. If it isn’t, Luna would probably be fine, especially given the state the planet seems to be in. He also wanted me to see if you could find out what happened to his parents. Apparently he’s not been able to reach them.” Bobbie paused again. “I think that’s all I have to pass along. Oh, that reporter - Monica something, from the Ring - is on the _Roci_ too, which is a bit weird. I’m not sure if that’s useful information but I figured you should know. I await your orders, ma’am. Draper out.” 

Once the message ended, Chrisjen hit the comm button on her hand terminal. “Contact Dahane please, Sorsha. Tell her to check the whereabouts of James Holden’s family in Montana as soon as possible.” 

“Yes ma’am,” her assistant replied.

“If they’re alive, she’s to send a shuttle to collect them. Tell her to be diplomatic,” she smiled impishly to herself, “that lot have a history of distrusting the government. But if they give her any trouble, she should tell Elise Holden from me that her son and his partner are coming to Luna so they’re to swallow their fucking pride and get their asses up here too.” 

“Yes ma’am.” 

That done, Chrisjen turned on the voice activation mode on her terminal. “Search recent Luna arrivals for the name ‘Amos Burton.’” After a few seconds a single result displayed on her screen: a small shuttle, _Anastasia’s Dream_ , with a registered owner of one Amos Burton. Chrisjen chuckled. She doubted Burton had ever owned a luxury shuttle in his life, meaning it was probably stolen. If he’d managed to do so without killing anyone or at least without getting caught, she wasn’t about to turn him in now, not when he was needed for more important things. “Sorsha,” she said over the comm, “I want landing permissions on Luna for the _Rocinante_.”

“When are they to arrive?”

“How the hell should I know? Have the local authorities coordinate with Captain Holden and whoever is piloting that ship these days.”

“Very good, ma’am.” 

“And find Amos Burton. He arrived in Lovell City in the last 24 hours.”

“Should security bring him to you once he’s found?”

“What good would that do? We won’t get anything from him if we question him now. We’ll be lucky to learn what Burton's been up to from Holden after he arrives.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The comm clicked off again and Chrisjen turned her attention back to her hand terminal. She typed the commands to turn on the camera and smiling said, “Hello Bobbie, I’m happy to hear from you. Chasing after ships and getting involved in space battles with terrorists wasn’t what I had in mind when I told you to get your asses somewhere safe. Still, I’m glad you, James, and Naomi have managed to survived everything yet again. Tell Holden he’ll have his landing permissions for Luna where he will find his mechanic waiting. I’m having someone check on his parents and, assuming they’re alive, I’ll try to get them here as well. I’m not sure who else is on board the _Rocinante_ right now, probably Belters from Fred Johnson’s faction. Knowing James, he’ll be fretting about their safety. Remind him Earth has a treaty with the OPA, one I plan to keep. If all goes as planned I’ll be Secretary General in another day or two, so that’s not just empty words.” She frowned. “I’m sorry about Alex Kamal. If I can be any assistance with his funeral arrangements, please let me know. As far as debriefing, that can keep until you’re all here. Be safe Bobbie and tell Holden to hurry the fuck up.”

A flick of her hand ended the call and sent the message on its way. With a sigh, she resumed her review of resumes. 

“God, I need a drink.” 

— —

“It’s a bit early for that, isn’t it?”

Bull paused while preparing his cup of coffee. “You talking to me?”

Monica placed her hand terminal on the table and gestured around the otherwise empty room. “Who else?”

“Well it didn’t make any fucking sense so I thought I’d check.”

“The cup.” 

He glanced down at the silver cup slowly filling with coffee from the coffee maker. Like every other cup on the ship, it bore the _Rocinante_ logo. “Yeah, and?”

“Who’s name is on it,” she said slowly, as if to a small child. 

He debated telling her to go fuck herself because she was clearly messing with him, but curiosity got the better of him. Bull turned the cup around slowly until he saw a word written in large black letters on the side. _Kamal._ “Oh come on! The man’s dead, it’s not like he needs it any more.”

“You’re drinking out of his cup, sitting in his pilot’s chair. What’s next, sleeping in his bed?”

The flow of coffee had ended, so he added sugar and sealed the cup tight. “You know we all took empty bunks once we came on board, so stop the Goldilocks bullshit. Don’t you have something else to keep you busy?” 

“I’m just saying, someone might think you were trying to become him.”

“I’m no duster.”

Monica made a face. “Nice. You think Holden’s going to let you say that word here, especially in this context, when he wouldn’t let you say…you know…the other thing?” 

Striding over to the table he leaned down to sneer at her. “You think I give a fuck? I’m only here until we reach Luna, after that he doesn’t have a say in what I say.”

She met his gaze unflinchingly. “Then what? Go back to Tycho? Will corporate even keep you on now Fred Johnson is dead?”

“No idea. I’ll find out when I get there.” Regardless of what the corporation decided, Bull had unfinished business on the station. He intended to return at least one more time to settle some scores. He owed Fred that much. 

“Would you really go back? You didn’t seem happy there. In fact the only time I’ve seen you remotely happy since we first met was when you and Holden were taking on Marco Inaros’s fleet in what looked like a suicide mission.”

“I’m not joining his fucking crew.” 

Monica’s smile was knowing and smug. “You sure about that?”

He glowered back at her, but something on her terminal caught his eye. Monica noticed and tried to pick it up, but he snatched it first. “What’s this?”

Standing, she walked around the table to try to take it back, but he kept it just out of her reach. “Nothing, just information gathering-”

“The sensor data I get,” he said, ignoring her reply and scrolling through the feed, “you’re trying to prove the protomolecule wasn’t destroyed with the _Zmeya_.”

“It’s too convenient. Why would they blow themselves and it up when they went to such lengths to get it in the first place?” She tried to grab the terminal again, but he dodged her. 

“Because we had them trapped and they knew their number was up? It’s not complicated.” He tapped the screen.“You’ve also accessed the ship’s comm logs.” Bull allowed her to take the device and smirked as Monica quickly cleared the screen. “Can’t imagine Holden would appreciate you spying on he and his friends.” 

“I’m not spying! I’ve only got guest privileges, it’s not like I can listen in.”

“No,” his eyes twinkled maliciously, “but you can read the time stamps and delivery codes. With a bit of research, you could figure out where the messages were being sent and who received them.” He shrugged and picked up his cup. “Although I don’t know why you’d bother, Holden would probably tell you if you asked.”

“True.” Monica smiled. “Plus, he’s a terrible liar.”

“So why bother-“

“I’m a journalist. In this line of work, you never know what may prove useful in piecing together the truth.”

He scoffed and headed toward the ladder up to Ops. “The truth? More like a juicy story to make you famous.” 

“You never answered my question,” she said, following him. “The _Roci_ is going to need a pilot. You interested in the job?”

“Why do you care?”

“I’m a reporter. Information is like air to me.“

“Then get this down.” He reached the next level and turned to face her. “Whatever I decide to do, I promise you’ll be the last to know. I’m not part of your fucking story.” 

“Can I quote you on that,” she called after him as he climbed the next ladder. Bull flipped her off, pointedly ignoring Monica’s equally insulting reply.


End file.
